


turnin' brick walls into doors

by juxtaposed_cat



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Frenemies with Benefits, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-21 00:28:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17032821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juxtaposed_cat/pseuds/juxtaposed_cat
Summary: Shin's a little more eager for it than usual during one of their late-night rendezvous.





	turnin' brick walls into doors

**Author's Note:**

> title is from "comin' home" by murder by death!

It’s been a couple weeks since Drifter’s last seen or heard from Shin.  No big deal.  They’re both busy men; got their own shit to take care of—Drifter and his Gambit, Shin and his hunt.  But more often than not, their paths cross and they inevitably end up rolling around in bed.  It’s pretty fuckin’ great—Shin’s an excellent fuck, and Drifter figures that each impromptu romp equals less of a chance of him getting offed by the Man with the Golden Gun, if that time ever comes.  Not that Shin’s getting soft for him, or vice versa, but maybe Shin might think twice before pulling the trigger in the standoff, and that’s the only opportunity that Drifter would need.

Tonight, Drifter’s busy unpacking the spoils of a successful Gambit—picking apart Goblin chassis, tinkering with Hobgoblin line rifles, storing Cyclops eyes, keeping what might be useful and tossing aside what’s too banged up to be of good use. Guardians come to him at all hours of the day, so he’s not especially startled when he hears someone slide under the gate leading to his alleyway; however, once he hears the gate slide shut, he knows exactly who’s come to visit.  He finishes setting aside the broken wings of a Harpy before he turns to greet his visitor.

Shin was looking over conspicuously at the duffel bags full of Vex parts before Drifter turned to him; once he’s got his attention, Shin just watches Drifter, lookin’ like he’s trying to find the right words to say.  The set of his body is antsy, and already Drifter can’t wait to fuck that restless energy outta him. He doesn’t have to wait much longer—after a moment, Shin loses patience and pushes him into the back room of the alley, toward the small, sad-looking bed there, restless hands shedding each other’s armor and clothing along the way.

Pretty quickly they end up on the bed, and Malphur’s easy for it—he puts up little fight when Drifter flips them over, pressing Shin into the shoddy mattress. Of course Drifter’s a little surprised--every encounter between the two of them is fighting-turned-fucking, wrestling for dominance, for control. And while that always gets Drifter going, this is a welcome change—Shin pliant beneath him, easy and eager for it.

Drifter meets Shin’s eyes for a split second; not wanting to think about the emotion that may or may not have been there, he then leans down close and get lips and teeth on Shin’s neck, kissing, sucking, biting. He feels Malphur’s groans rumble in his throat against his lips, feels him trying to keep his voice back.

Drifter’s slung Shin’s leg over his hip, slicking two fingers up and working them in, Shin’s pants having been discarded a while ago. He doesn’t take it slow, per say, but he’s careful, and watches Shin the whole time with this sort of shrewd look, enjoying the way Shin squirms and exhales hard when Drifter spreads his fingers. When Drifter grabs Shin’s dick and swirls his thumb over the head, spreading the fingers stretching him at the same time, Malphur shuts his eyes and wills himself mostly silent. His hips, moving up into Drifter’s grip and down onto the fingers in him, did all the talking that Drifter needed to hear.

“Enjoying yourself?” asks Drifter, his voice low and breath warm against Shin’s skin. He backs away, moving his hand from Shin’s dick to his jaw, carefully moving his head from side to side to admire his handiwork, the bruises blooming over Shin’s throat, satisfied. Shin watched him outta the corner of his eye the whole time, trying to glare, but getting interrupted by the fingers pressing inside him.

“Shut up and get on with it,” Shin demands, coming out breathier than he probably intended. Without further delay, Drifter pulls his pants down enough to get his own dick out, slicks himself up, and presses himself in with a low, quiet groan. He takes it real slow and easy, relishing in the feeling of tight heat. It gets Drifter real hot and bothered—how demanding, how _needy_ Shin gets when they get to this point. Shin wants it hard and fast—always—and it does something for him to deny Shin that.

And damn, he realizes again for the hundredth time that Shin Malphur is a great fuck, because the guy makes an irritated noise, wraps his legs around Drifter’s waist and tries to pull him further in. When that’s unsuccessful, he props himself up on his elbows and tries to give Drifter another nasty look, but it’s effectively ruined by the horny look on Shin’s face—fuck, he wants it bad, and it makes Drifter that much harder that Shin’s desperate for it and isn’t getting it the way he wants.

The tension between them is palpable as Drifter bottoms out and Shin groans, half-bitten off. Malphur’s watched him the whole time, pissed off, but still shaky and desperate. Drifter can’t help but grin.

“You waitin’ for somethin’? Move,” growls Shin, who shivers and tries to encourage him by moving his hips, to no avail. Drifter huffs a laugh, choosing not to respond, and leans down again to bite at Shin’s neck. He starts up a slow, satisfying rhythm, rolling his hips into him. Shin, on the other hand, shivers and groans, seemingly conflicted—judging by how hard he still is, he’s enjoying himself—but it’s not really what he wants. Still, Drifter thinks it must be good for him, and to be the one to cause that conflict settles heat low in his gut.

When Drifter grabs Shin’s hip hard with one hand and supports the leg around his waist with the other, Shin tenses up and exhales heavy, probably anticipating the fuck he’s been aching for. But, much to Drifter’s delight, Shin makes a desperate, angry noise when Drifter instead uses his grip to grind himself deep.

“C’mon—more, dammit,” growls Shin as he slides his hand down to his own dick, stroking himself in a tight grip.

Drifter leans back, wanting to see what Shin looks like. And oh, how wrecked he looks. Eyes squeezed shut, lips parted, and brow furrowed, Shin’s the perfect picture of desperation. Coupled with the way Malphur throws his head back and stifles a groan as he works his dick in his hand, Drifter won’t last too long. It’s really doing something for him—how Shin’s shifting his hips up into his own fist, barely able to keep from moaning as Drifter’s dick fills him up.

“Damn, brother,” says Drifter, voice low and rough, still fucking into Shin at that slow pace, working himself breathless, “I’ve seen you stupid for it before but _damn_ —you really want it this bad?”

Shin opens his eyes to glare at Drifter just as Drifter shifts and presses his cock against that spot in Shin that makes him that much shakier and needier. It gets a moan out of Shin, one that betrays how horny he is for it, and Drifter swears he can see Shin flush a little redder around his cheeks. Shin doesn’t respond, though, just grips the messy sheets tight with the hand that’s not fisting his dick, focused on keeping his sounds down to little exhales of pleasure.

Slow isn’t quite enough even for Drifter at this point, so he obliges both Shin and the heat pooling in his gut by giving Shin a few hard thrusts. Still not fast, but with a lot more force behind them. It’s good, and it gets a moan out of Shin, one that’s sweet music to Drifter’s ears.

Drifter leans down close again, right next to Shin’s ear, and says, “Keep that up and I won’t last much longer,” voice low, keeping his thrusts steady. The shudder that gets in response is almost as gratifying as Shin’s sounds of pleasure. Again, Shin doesn’t deign him with a response, only bucks up into his own fist, a quiet little groan escaping his throat. Drifter decides to press his luck.

“Don’t be like that, Shin. I wanna hear it. Lemme hear how good it feels,” Drifter murmurs, giving a hard, sharp thrust for good measure.

And Shin—he shudders again, breathing a little hard, body strung a little tight. “ _Fuck_ ,” he breathes, high on lust. Drifter moves Shin’s hand off his cock and wraps his hand around instead, and the groan that comes outta Shin’s throat is closer to a whimper. Drifter works Shin’s cock at the same pace he snaps his hips, and Shin’s head falls back, his back arches, and he moans.

And oh, does he moan. It’s not the hardest they’ve fucked, not by a longshot, but Drifter doesn’t remember Shin ever being so free—and filthy—with the sounds of his pleasure. Shin looks so sex-drunk, eyes lidded, lips parted, body tense but still so, so pliant. He’s just chasing orgasm at this point, hips moving mindlessly, fitting his hand over Drifter’s to guide him along his dick.

“Fuck yeah, that’s it. Lemme hear it all,” Drifter groans, obliging Shin every step of the way; letting his hand be guided, thrusting harder, faster, until Shin’s mumbling _close_ into their shared air.

It’s not long at all until Shin’s body goes rigid and he comes with a shudder and a moan. Drifter doesn’t follow too far behind, groaning against Shin’s shoulder through his release.

Drifter rolls off Shin in the come-down—they’re hot and sweaty and he didn’t pull out, so Shin’s probably not too happy about the mess. But judging from the way Shin just sighs, almost content, and closes his eyes, almost relaxing on Drifter’s messy bed, he thinks maybe Shin won’t be complaining this time. It also looks like he might be staying for a bit, so he pulls the sheets up a little for Shin as a measure of hospitality.

After a long period of silence, the two of them catching their breath, Drifter says, plainly, “You ain’t usually that loud.”

Shin opens his eyes to glare knives at Drifter. “Shut up,” he says, and Drifter leaves it at that. It’s fine—it’s not like he expected him to respond with anything meaningful.  Instead, Drifter shrugs, offers him the nearest rag, which is a cloth smeared with dried Cabal oil, and gets up to continue unpacking.

When he’s done unpacking and sorting a couple hours later, he goes to check the back room, see if Shin’s left.  He’s surprised to see that Shin is still in his bed, sprawled out on his stomach, sheets tangled around his body.  He’s even snoring a little, and Drifter doesn’t know exactly why it’s so amusing and such a shame at the same time.  It makes sense that the Man with the Golden Gun doesn’t get enough sleep.  Probably doesn’t have time for it, with all the shit he’s got going on; hunting Dredgens, keeping an eye on Drifter.  Drifter wonders if he only sleeps after their impromptu couplings. It would explain the dark circles that always seem to be under his eyes.  He tosses a cheap blanket over Shin and goes back out to work on another one of his many projects.

When he checks on Shin again, as the sun begins to peek over the Wall and soft morning light filters into the Tower, his bed is empty.  He’s not surprised.  Shin’s always gotta play hero, running around to punish people for arbitrary crimes against the Light.  It’s all good, though, ‘cause Shin always comes back around to him eventually.  And _that’s_ gotta say something.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! and thanks to the small pool of shin/drifter people over on twitter for inspiring me to write something. you guys are so cool. inspired by... literally all the shin/drifter content on here and on twitter lol


End file.
